It has taken me three attempts to get this down. Mum said I should not worry. That if cannot handle it, I should not push myself.
I was so nervous. The exhibition was starting today, and Deni and I still needed to put the last few things together. The sounds were still too loud. Did we need to worry about what the Butter Mouse thought about it?
We decided to get to the Stitch early, to make sure everything was prepared. The plants around the display were just getting ready to go, their petals blooming in a sea of yellow and red.
The video already played on a constant loop. I knew the beats of every second. The last chores were grunt work, and I think Deni got a little bored. They sat cross legged on the floor, and watched me hand paint our bamboo signs.
He turned up on the fifth cycle.
We knew the rhythm of the Stitch by now. How unlikely it was that anyone would turn up at this hour. Even Link was not in yet. He arrived on his own. I think we knew something was up. To have a man of that that age turn up without a family.
His trench coat was banana yellow. So different to the colour of our friend in 1619. The hook in his hand was like it was a slice of curved metal. He even said his catchphrase.
‘I can only show you the compassion of fingers in a closing door.’
It was so weird how everything went
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